The Breeding Facility

Furtiok City, the heart of modern society as far as you're concerned, is your home. Born and raised in or nearby you've always been familiar with the high-rise skyline, and the busy streets.

Once you became an adult though, you are identified as one of the rare few with exceptional breeding compatibility, and you sign up to work as one of the city's clinic based breeders. You take pride in helping women become mothers, and families grow.

This morning you stand outside the clinic, ready to start a new day.

Reputation 0 Total pregnancies 0 Total offspring 0 Clients remaining today 1

The automatic glass doors of the clinic slide open with a soft hiss, welcoming you inside. The scent of antiseptic and fresh linen mingles with something faintly floral, likely a cleaning product. Behind the front desk, a heavyset white furry deer with antlers, her tits are enormous for her size, and her ass is extremely wide and curvy, A curvy deer with sleek, white-looking snow fur and glasses perched on her nose looks up from a screen.

She offers a polite, if slightly bored, smile. Morning, Sir! I received your application of becoming a breeder? How wonderful! Your our first male breeder since this breeding den since... well forever! But Clinic's quiet today. Just one client scheduled, and she's already checked in. Exam Room 2. Dr. Havers said to get you up to speed on her file before you head in...

She slides a tablet across the counter toward you. On the screen is a brief profile: a female arctic fox, age 26, first-time client. Her preferences are marked as 'flexible', with a note that she's looking for a 'more hands-on' approach than the standard procedure.

I look up from the front desk the moment the door chime rings, my ears swiveling before my eyes even find you. Hesper — that's the name stitched into the little brass tag on my scrubs — and I've been the one holding this lobby together since before you clocked in. Tall for a doe, white as a fresh snowfall from the crown of my head down to the tapered tips of my fingers, with a pair of short ivory antlers I keep polished because the clients notice. My legs are long and shapely under the pale blue scrubs, hooves tucked into soft-soled shoes that keep me quiet on the tile. Winter coat in the middle of a warm city morning, and I still run cold.

I tap a clipboard against the desk and lean over it, giving you a look that's half welcome and half warning. Morning, Ruben. You're on time, which is more than I can say for the doctor, so consider me impressed. I slide a patient folder across the counter toward you. Room three is prepped. Towels are fresh, the bed's been re-bolted after last week — don't ask — and there's a new girl waiting in intake who's been here since seven. Seven, Ruben. She sat in that chair for an hour reading the same pamphlet about nutrition twelve times. My ears flick back, then forward again. First-timer. Nervous. Sweet about it, but nervous.

I flip the folder open with one slender finger. Marisol. Twenty-four, red fox, works nights at a bakery down in the Harborline district. No partner, no family pressure, just decided she wants a kid and picked this clinic off a list. She's got a folder an inch thick from the city health office, all green checks. I close it again and push it the rest of the way to you, tilting my head so the light catches my antlers. She asked me twice if the breeder would be gentle. I told her yes. Don't make a liar out of me on my first week, alright? Take your time with her. Read the sheet first. And Ruben — she's never done anything like this before, so whatever she asks, answer it straight.

Reputation 0 Total pregnancies 0 Total offspring 0 Clients remaining today 1